Can You Feel The Love Tonight?
by CoolnRainy
Summary: You know you have it bad, he thought irritably to himself, when you start identifying with Elton John songs.


**Can You Feel The Love Tonight? **

**Summary: **You know you have it bad, he thought irritably to himself, when you start identifying with Elton John songs.

**A/N: **Ello. This is a one shot set over New Year's Eve, but I timed it in season 2 (after Secret Santa), just because I'm rewatching those episodes at the moment. Hope you enjoy …

**Disclaimer: **Lie to Me characters and concepts do not belong to me.

…

"But we just had a Christmas party," Cal had objected helplessly.

"So what? New Year's and Christmas are totally different," retorted Emily. "Besides, the Christmas party wasn't _on_ Christmas, so it doesn't really count."

Cal scowled. "How does that make it not count?"

Emily rolled her eyes at him, and kissed his cheek from her seat beside him on his couch.

"Come on, Dad, it'll be fun!"

Cal sighed, and in a last ditch attempt to dissuade them, mumbled, "I doubt anyone will want to spend New Year's at the office."

"Actually, they all seem rather keen," said Gillian, who was grinning at him from her seat. "Especially after the success of Emily's Christmas party."

Cal shrugged, deciding that he really stood little chance against these two women. And that was how he found himself leaning against the wall at his office at eleven on New Year's Eve, watching various employees and their social groups dancing to a variety of songs on a playlist that one of Emily's friends had put together. He didn't recognize most of them, and frankly he was barely paying attention. He was mostly distracted by Foster's appearance in a deep sea green dress that clung to her in all the right places, and sent his heart doing multiple flip flops and back flips and various other acrobatics across his chest.

At that point, she was dancing with Loker. She had danced with virtually everyone there, except for himself, of course. He would dance with her later, when he felt more up to it. At this point, he just needed to stop staring at her. He grabbed a glass of champagne, slipped out of the reception area, wandered into his office, and slumped onto his couch.

He was getting fairly sick of feeling this way for her. It was ridiculous, really. He had quite happily had these feelings for her packaged and set aside in his heart for years. It was a vague acknowledgement that they had something, but it didn't matter, because they were both married and in love with other people, and that they were lucky that they could have such a strong friendship in spite of that.

But now it was as though the package had burst open, and it was becoming clear that while he hadn't been watching, the feelings had grown, multiplied really, and were just flowing out of their box in a never ending stream, overflowing into his life every bloody day.

And then the song played. It was a song whose lyrics he knew. And since he was thinking of her anyway, and sitting down, and not talking, the lyrics floated into his brain as though _he_ was the one thinking them.

_There's a calm surrender_

_To the rush of day_

_When the heat of the rolling world_

_Can be turned away_

_An enchanted moment_

_And it sees me through_

_It's enough for this restless warrior _

_Just to be with you_

Because she was that, wasn't she? His calm place when life went crazy – or, more accurately, when he acted crazy. His refuge. The one place he wanted to be when he was feeling restless and insecure and frustrated with life. And then the unpleasantness, the stress, the chaos would all be gently eased into perspective before softly fading away. And all he needed was her company. In life, he tended to seek out excitement and conflict and activity, and then she … balanced it out. His refuge at the end of his day, every day.

You know you have it bad, he thought irritably to himself, when you start identifying with Elton John songs.

X X X

Gillian found him after some searching, although she wasn't surprised to see him sitting alone in his office. She walked inside, smiled at him, and sat down beside him.

"Not having a good time?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

He shrugged. "Just needed a moment."

"Well, your moment's over. It's almost midnight."

She saw a look of surprise flash across his face.

"What, already?"

"Yeah, you've been gone for a long time. Come and dance with me."

He grinned at her, and said, "Out-danced everyone else, eh? Now you've come for your last resort?"

"Well, since I do like to dance with men who have the decency to _ask_ me, I guess you are a last resort," she retorted, but she smiled at him anyway, because she was really teasing him, and loving it.

Cal, however, instantly leapt to his feet, held out his hand, and asked her in an exaggeratedly formal tone, "May I have this dance, fair lady?"

Laughing, she stood up as well.

And then he took her hand, and laid his other one on her lower back. She found herself still laughing, although now it was from enjoyment more than humour, and she observed, "I thought we'd at least make it to the dance floor."

"I'm a shy dancer," said Cal, in a mock solemn tone.

Really, he knew how to make her laugh, she thought to herself. And then, not for the first time by a long chalk, she thought how happy she was to have him in her life, and she allowed herself to feel the enormous amount of love she felt for him. Because of course she and Cal loved each other, very deeply. They were best friends, and had been for years. The problem that this presented, however, was that it made it almost impossible to read him for _feelings_.

And she knew she had them. The _feelings_, as she thought of them. It had always been bound to happen, really, and she had simply dismissed them based on their inevitability. It hadn't come as a surprise to her when she had first noticed them, nor when they began to grow stronger along with the dissipation of both their marriages. Unfortunately, they were becoming almost naggingly difficult to simply indulge.

On the bright side, she doubted even he could read her for _feelings_ because she knew that the intense affection she had in her eyes when she looked at him, as she was looking at him now, had been there for years. That look was reflected in his face, and it was as familiar to her as the sun. And frankly, she loved that they could look at each other with such love, _feelings_ or no.

"This is almost fun," he said, breaking into her thoughts.

She rolled her eyes slightly, and said, "How flattering. I bet you're regretting not asking me sooner, aren't you?" and she twinkled at him.

He gave a rare roar of laughter, and said, "You're quite right, love!"

From outside, they suddenly heard the "Ten!" that initiated the counting down being chanted by the guests.

"This is a ridiculous tradition, counting down," Cal said.

"Shush," she said indulgently, and they smiled at each other.

And then it was "One!" and there was cheering and clapping, and Cal's lips on hers, which didn't surprise her either, because what are friends for if not to give you a kiss at midnight on New Year's when you're single? What did surprise her was the fraction of a second too long that his lips stayed there. It was just too long to be chaste, but too short to allow for any reaction. And then he had broken away, and he had on his usual neutral grin that told her absolutely nothing.

"Happy New Year, Foster," he said, and then strode out of the office.

She stared after him in confusion for a moment, and then followed him out. He was hugging Emily and next she was being embraced by Torres, and Loker, and then Emily too. And so, she decided, that was that, perhaps it hadn't been too long after all. And it had felt nice to have a kiss right then, and so she found herself smiling at him in affection again and letting it go.

_Feelings_ really did make life unnecessarily complicated sometimes.

X X X

He now found himself standing irritably on the balcony. It was freezing cold, and his breath rose in clouds around him. He shivered, and tucked himself deeper into his coat, shrugging up his shoulders, hands in his pockets, burying his chin into the soft scarf that had been his secret Santa gift from Gillian. Then he thought he should really take it off, because he was clearly getting a bit too sentimental for comfort. Stupid Elton John song.

The kiss had been dangerously close to too close. He had really meant to just give her an affectionate peck, but in that moment, he had been unable to stop his lips from reaching for a little more, unable to pull them away as quickly as he had intended.

The sounds of nearby New Year celebrations filled the icy air, and there were some fireworks and flares lighting up the sky in the distant surroundings. He scowled at them, and cursed the whole stupid tradition for sucking him in that way. For messing with his better judgment.

He really should have gone for her cheek.

It wasn't long before he heard Emily's voice behind him, and he turned towards her.

"There you are," Emily was saying, "Standing outside so that you can survey all the New Year parties in the area with disapproval."

She stopped in front of him, and grinned cheekily into his eyes.

"As a matter of fact," he retorted, "I was just admiring the pretty lights in the sky, like any self-respecting New Year's junkie would, you know."

"You're such a good liar, I almost believe you," she said with feigned earnest.

"I wouldn't," he grunted.

"Anyway, Dad, I just came to look for you because you keep disappearing from my beyond brilliant party, and I was wondering if you're okay?"

He beamed down at his daughter, the light of his life.

"I'm fantastic, darling," he murmured.

And she put her arm around him, and he put his around her, and they turned and gazed out at the city.

"So, if you're so fantastic, why are you standing out here in a sulk?"

"I'm not sulking."

"You're sulking, Dad."

"I am not sulking! I'm - I'm thinking. I'm being introspective, right, considering life and such."

She smiled at him, and asked, "What specifically about life?"

He turned to eye her suspiciously. "What's with all the questions?"

She looked at him in that direct way she had, and pointed out, "I'm not completely oblivious to facial expressions, Dad, and if you saw that one on my face, there'd be no hearing the end of it. I guess I'm just my father's daughter."

He laughed, and said, "That's true."

"So tell me."

He considered her for a moment, her inviting face, full of trust and love, and decided he couldn't lie.

"I kissed Gillian," he told her.

"At midnight?" she asked.

"Yeah."

There was a pause as she thought about this. Then she said, "So, what, was it a not-platonic kiss?"

"Almost."

"What did she do?"

"Nothing, I ran for it."

Emily rolled her eyes, and smiled at him.

"Well, it wasn't a completely not-platonic kiss, right," he said defensively. "It just wasn't completely platonic either."

"So you're gonna pretend it didn't happen?"

He glanced down at her, and said, "I could."

And she was smiling at him, eyes filled with amused exasperation.

"Do you think I should?" he asked.

"Is that why you're out here, sulk-, I mean, introspecting?" she asked, teasingly. "You don't know what to do?"

"Something like that," he mumbled. "It's more a self-control thing, you know."

"Ah." She paused again. "Well, if you really care, then you shouldn't. Pretend it didn't happen, I mean."

She was looking at him in true earnest now. He stared back.

"What if I lose her?"

Emily frowned thoughtfully, and then shrugged and said, "Well, don't."

And he broke into a loving smile. "I suppose that's as good a piece of advice as I've ever heard," he said, hugging her closer.

"Well, I'm very wise."

He nodded, still smiling, and gazed into the distance.

Finally Emily sighed, and said, "She's not Mom, Dad. She makes you happy."

"Yeah, that's true, she does," he agreed. "She's my best friend."

"I know. So don't let that change."

X X X

Gillian spotted them standing outside on the balcony, and hesitated. She didn't want to interrupt, but she was thinking of departing for home soon, and she didn't want to leave without saying goodbye to both of them.

She finally decided to just call out a quick goodbye, so she walked over to the doorway, and smiled as she heard their laughter.

"So, what do you think of all the pretty lights, then, Mr New Year's Junkie?" Emily was asking.

"Very pretty," Cal responded, jokingly.

"I love the ones that look like silver stars that keep coming up over there," said Emily, pointing.

"Very pretty," Cal said again, and Emily elbowed him playfully.

"Hey, you two," Gillian called, and they turned to face her, both smiling warmly.

"Hey, Gill," said Emily, while Cal just eyed her with that affectionate look.

"I was just coming to say goodnight," said Gillian.

Emily quickly broke free of her father's arm saying, "No, come and stand out here, Gill, it's nice."

"It's a bit too cold for my dress," said Gillian, turning her smile on him.

"Well, go and get your coat," said Emily. "Or, here, take mine." And she shrugged out of her coat, and walked towards Gillian, holding it out to her, adding, "I need to get back inside anyway, Rick wants to dance some more."

"The ones that dance are the keepers, Em," said Gillian, amused at Cal's eyes rolling. "You have no idea how rare they are."

Emily laughed and nodded, before saying, "Tell that to my Dad."

Cal merely turned back to face the city, shaking his head.

Gillian grinned at Emily, who smiled back, and said, "See you guys later," before vanishing back inside. Gillian wandered over to stand next to Cal.

"I can leave you alone, if you like," she told him softly. "I was leaving anyway, and I don't want to keep badgering you."

"You never badger me," he replied, and turned in time to see her amused eyebrow arch. He laughed. "Well, not unbearably," he amended with a smile. "And not at all tonight."

She gave him a smile, and for a while, they merely watched each other with affection.

Suddenly he said teasingly, "You calling me a keeper, then?"

"What?"

"I dance, don't I?" and he smirked at her.

Comprehension washed over her, and she grinned, "Oh, right. Well, then, yes, I suppose I was calling you a keeper."

"Huh, so touching."

"Well, I don't need to tell you I consider you a keeper," she pointed out, laughing. "I've put up with you for long enough to make that clear."

"True, true," he acquiesced.

Then he quickly turned to face her, grinning widely, and stepped into her space, eyeing her closely.

She smiled back at him, waiting for whatever cheeky, flirty comment was undoubtedly coming.

He didn't disappoint, and after a very obvious glance down her body, he looked into her eyes again, and asked, "Do you dress like that just to drive me crazy, Foster?"

"Yes," she responded sarcastically. "That's all I ever think about, really, driving you crazy."

"Well, that just proves that you can do anything you set your mind to."

"Hm, what a relief."

"Isn't it."

And there was another long pause as they smirked at each other. Then she laughed softly, shook her head, and turned back towards the view. She gave an involuntary shiver, and she felt Cal's arm wrap around her, and pull her close, warm against him. And so they stood, the sound of soft music from inside gently floating around them. The fireworks had stopped, and their combined breath was pouring out in front of them in an icy mist.

When he spoke again, his tone was very different from the arrogant teasing from a moment before. It had gone sincere, quiet, uncharacteristically hesitant.

"I love you, Gill."

Surprised at how out of the blue that was, she nonetheless smiled and murmured, "I know. I love you."

There was another pause, and then he pulled slightly away so that he could turn her to face him, his hands sitting just above her elbows over Emily's coat, the edge of the scarf she had bought him fluttering up to tickle her neck. As she smiled into his eyes, she gently lifted her hand to press the offending scarf strands against his chest. He glanced down, and back into her eyes.

It occurred to her how very intimate this moment must look. How intimate it actually was, really. And then the _feelings_ arrived. And almost simultaneously, he leaned in to kiss her. Softly. Pointedly.

They pulled back enough to look at each other. She felt as though most of her bodily functions had frozen. She was reading his face, loving as ever, but serious now. And then he murmured even more quietly, "I'm _in_ love with you."

She half opened her mouth to speak, but her voice hadn't regained its functionality yet. Not that she knew what she would say if it had. "In love" was a term she had never allowed herself to think when it came to Cal. "Love", yes. _Feelings_, yes. "In love" was just too concrete. To even think those words was opening up flood gates of emotion. It was a very dangerous term. One couldn't hide from it. Once the _feelings_ had been given that title, there was no going back.

And, of course, he had just gone and said it.

X X X

Cal watched her watch him. He watched her shock, her fear, her love. He watched her indecision, her internal battle, her longing, her cautiousness. And he watched it all while smiling at her so lovingly. Because he wasn't bothering to keep his face neutral. It was too late for that, and besides, she needed to see it. His sincerity.

He had resorted to teasing flirting for a bit before to calm his nerves, to create some relaxed familiarity for the situation. And he was glad he had, because this was a very alien moment. Confessing feelings like that was very unlike him. Risking their friendship was even more unlike him.

After a few seconds, he decided to say something else, because she seemed unable to articulate much. He took a moment to suppress his nerves, but they weren't so bad. He had not seen any horror, anger, disgust. He was certain that, at this moment, their friendship was safe.

"Are you scared?"

He hadn't planned to say that. He had wanted to say something more lighthearted. Something stupid like "You knew that, right?" or "Elton John told me to tell you." But that question just slipped out.

He watched her frown thoughtfully, hesitantly. Then she swallowed, and leaned in to kiss him again. It lasted a little bit longer this time, but it was still gentle. Hesitant. Then she pulled back, and gazed into his face again, before whispering, "Terrified. You?"

And he grinned, because any response from her was an incredible relief.

"You have no bloody idea," he told her quietly, but telling her with his face how much he cared. And then he pulled her into a hug, his one hand grasping her back, and the other stroking her hair. He felt her hand slide through his hair, too, gently, affectionately, familiarly. And he suddenly realised that this would work. They would make it work. Because if he could make it work with anyone, it would be Gillian Foster. And so by the time they pulled back to look at each other again, he was beaming at her.

"Well, maybe less so than a minute ago," he whispered.

And she smiled, that dazzling smile that made the fireworks he had been watching earlier seem like nothing more than bits of algae floating about in the sky.

Then he asked, "Would it be all the same to you if I kissed you again?"

And now her eyes had acquired that twinkling amusement that he so loved, and she nodded. And so he pressed his lips onto hers again, and kissed her with a shade more determination, and he got a real kick out of her kissing him back. Feeling her lips press back, capture his bottom lip in hers … these were sensations he would never, ever forget.

Once more, he found them pulling back. But before she had a chance to verbalise anything, he noticed something. The pure loving look was back. With dilated pupils.

And he was kissing her again, no longer able to curb his enthusiasm. It was like when you pick up some water on a very hot day, and you mean only to take a sip, only you find yourself unable to stop gulping it down until it's run out. He kissed her like that, and she was kissing _him_ like that as well. It was intoxicating, his tongue unable to stop itself from pushing gently against her lips. When she opened up to him almost immediately, he felt goose bumps explode all over his arms and shoulders.

Her tongue stroked his with equal intensity, and he clutched her closer to him, until the oxygen he was attempting to get in through his nose was no longer enough, and they pulled apart, breathing quickly and deeply, the icy air stinging his lungs. But he barely noticed. He was lost in her affectionate gaze, the one of unconditional love that he had been seeing for years, but that was now in her eyes after kissing him.

Eventually her smile faded, and she asked in a serious voice, "Are you sure about this, Cal?"

He considered her question, and all its implication, and tried to think of how to answer in a way that could emphasise his certainty. Eventually, he said, "I really think it would be worse to pretend we don't feel this way, Gill."

She stared at him. And so he added firmly, "Best friends always, okay?"

And she softened again, into relief, and then a relaxed smile spread over her face.

"We'll be careful, then?" she asked him.

"As careful as I can possibly be," he said, allowing for some humour to permeate his features.

And she was laughing again, and saying teasingly, "For some reason, that doesn't much comfort me."

He grinned, pleased with himself for relieving the tension, and for convincing her.

X X X

Gillian could barely believe it had happened. That this was the moment where the _feelings_ revealed themselves as "in love". She was still in a bit of an emotional turmoil, and she knew it would take some reflecting to calm her down enough. It would take time to adjust.

But God Almighty, she wanted this. She hadn't realised how much until right now. Until the kissing, the staring, the "in love". She felt a peculiar urge to cry or laugh or something. She decided it must be hormonal, so she compromised by kissing him again. It was immediately deep and intense this time, and like hell if she was going to let it stop until she absolutely had to. Which happened with the oxygen thing.

Still, she felt where his hands gripped her waist, and she pulled him in for another warm hug, and as they stood there, warm in each other's embrace, she found herself saying, with no planning, but with absolute sincerity, "Apparently, I'm in love with you, too."

She felt his soft chuckle as his chest shook, his throat vibrated, and his warm breath tickled her neck, before he murmured, "Now that's the best news I've had in a while, darling."

And they gripped each other even more tightly for a moment.

Then she heard the song drifting out of the door, and she pulled back, smiling, but blushing at herself. But he knew she was a romantic, she told herself, so he would just have to deal with the fact that she responded well to Elton John songs.

"Let's dance," she whispered. She saw a strange look flicker through his eyes, then he sighed, rolled his eyes, and muttered, "Playlist must be on repeat or something."

"What?" she asked, puzzled.

But he looked down at her, and shot her his loving gaze as he adjusted his grip, and began to sway to the music, saying softly, lightly, "Remember I'm a keeper."

She giggled, and nodded as she smiled at him, the two of them dancing calmly and companionably in the cold.

_And can you feel the love tonight?_

_It is where we are_

_It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer_

_That we got this far_

_And can you feel the love tonight?_

_How it's laid to rest_

_It's enough to make kings and vagabonds_

_Believe the very best_

_..._

**A/N:** Thanks for reading :-)


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